


Possible (15/39?)

by Mexta



Series: Possible [15]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, post-412
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:45:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mexta/pseuds/Mexta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey visits the Gallaghers</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possible (15/39?)

"Where were you?" Mandy demanded, pulling open the front door as though she’d been waiting for them.

Mickey dragged a nearly unconscious Ian up the front stairs. “At the fucking clinic. Help me get him inside, wouldya?”

Mandy reached forward to grab one of Ian’s arms. “He’s been out all this time?”

"Yeah. Hardly ate either. Needs to get to bed."

"Ian," Mandy said gently. "How ya doing?"

Ian didn’t respond right away, but after a moment he gave a slow nod. “Tired.”

"I bet." She took his weight off Mickey and led him inside while Mickey stood uncertainly, glancing from the house to the car. 

"Ay," he yelled after Mandy. "Get some soup in him before he passes out." Then he bounded down the stairs to the car, where Lip was just starting to pull away. When Mickey pulled open the door to the back seat and jumped in, Lip stopped the car and looked over his shoulder, cigarette in his mouth as usual.

"Confused? Your house is that one," Lip said pointedly.

"I’m going to your place. Got some things to work out with you and your family."

He saw Lip and Debbie exchange glances, but Lip shrugged and started the car. At the Gallagher house, Mickey followed them inside and was relieved to see the older sister, Fiona, in the living room apparently waiting for them.

"How did it go? How is he?" she asked eagerly, then stopped as she saw Mickey. "Oh — hi, Mickey."

"Yeah, hi. He’s the same, tired from being out all day right now, but he agreed to take some meds and go to therapy." Mickey stood in the middle of the room and looked around. "This all of you? Where’s Carl?"

Fiona shook her head uncertainly. “He’s out. Uh — not to complain or anything, but — what are you doing here?”

"We need to get some things straight. Sit down. All of you."

The three of them — Debbie, Lip and Fiona — dropped onto the couch and sat in a row, staring up at him. Lip lit a cigarette and tried to look unconcerned but Mickey thought he could see through that by now.

"A’right," Mickey said, facing them with conviction. He knew what he wanted to say though he wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to say it. "I told you I’d take care of Ian till he got better and I know you’ve been waiting for me to fuck this up. I get it. You don’t like me, you don’t think I’m good for Ian or some shit. Fine. I’m not gonna argue with you. Maybe you’re right, for all I know. But _whatever_. Ian’s staying with me right now. It’s his choice, not mine. I’m not stopping him from leaving. Even offered to take him here. Hell, so’s Debbie. Right, Deb?”

The little girl nodded solemnly. She was listening closely but on the whole she seemed a lot less surprised by all this than the older two did.

"But he stayed. He’s with me, for now anyway. And as long as he wants to be with me, then I’m gonna look after him. You hear me? I’m not gonna pawn him off on anyone else. I do what I can for him. I’m not saying it’s great — I don’t know how to help him, I ain’t ever done this before. But I’m doin’ my best. And so’s Mandy. Even your little sister and brother are helping." He nodded at Debbie. "Her and Carl — they’re over every day almost."

Neither Fiona nor Lip showed any reaction to that news, so they must have already known. For some reason, the idea of that infuriated Mickey more than ever. He jabbed his finger at the two of them. “Now it’s time for you guys to start steppin’ up. He’s your brother. I’m his boyfriend.” It was amazing how much easier it got to say that. “Like it or not — we’re _all_ family. So no more of this hanging around at home, waitin’ for me to fuck up so you can show how much better you are than me. A’right? I’m done with that. You can start doing your part same as everyone else.”

Lip exhaled, long and slow, but Fiona seemed a mix of stunned and defensive. “Fine, Mickey,” she said at last. “If you need help you can bring him over here any time.”

“ _How_?” Mickey stared at her. “You even listening to me? He can’t walk all the way over here and back again. He can barely walk around the block.”

"So what do you want us to do?" Fiona demanded. "Maybe we’re not waiting around for you to fuck up — maybe we’re just waiting to hear what your plan is."

"I got him to the fucking _clinic_ , is my plan! I — _we_ ,” Mickey said, nodding at Debbie, “Got him out of bed, got him walking, got him to the clinic.”

"And _we’re_ going to show up for the group-hug sessions,” Lip put in drily.

Fiona turned her stare toward him. “What group-hug sessions?”

“ _Therapy_ ,” Mickey said. “It’s group therapy or some shit. Y’all gotta show up or he don’t qualify for the program that gives him free meds. Got it?’

She nodded slowly. “Okay. Fine.”

"All’a you. Debbie and Carl too." 

"Fine. Is that it?"

“ _No_ that’s not it.” It was like pulling teeth with these people. “You need to come over once in a while. See how he’s doing. Talk to him. Show an interest.”

"I showed up today," Lip put in. "And look how warmly welcomed I was."

"Fuck you, Gallagher." Sometimes Mickey felt like he spent his entire life telling one Gallagher or another to fuck off. "You don’t just turn up for doctor visits. And you don’t come by to check up on me. You come by to check up on _him_. See how your kid brother is doing. Talk to him, see if he’s ready to talk to you.”

"You said he’s talking to you," Lip pointed out.

"Sometimes. I said sometimes. He talks to Carl and Debbie a little too, right?" Mickey paused and looked at Debbie, who nodded. Mickey was really starting to appreciate her. "But he’s not tellin’ any of us all of it. There’s lots he still keeps inside his head. I don’t know who he’s gonna let it out to — me or you guys or the shrinks at the clinic — I just want him to know there’s people around that’re gonna listen when he feels like talking."

"Mickey," Fiona said suddenly, leaning forward intently. "Look. We want to help — of course we do. We love Ian, all of us — we’ve loved him a lot longer than you have."

"I ain’t saying — "

"No, listen to me. I don’t think you get it. We’ve been here before. I don’t know if they told you but our mother — "

"Yeah, I know about your mother."

"It’s not something you can fix just by listening. I know you want to look after him and support him and take care of him till it’s over. But it doesn’t work that way. We’ve tried that — we all have. All it does is break your heart. And it doesn’t help the other person either."

Mickey wanted to yell at Fiona, tell her she wasn’t listening, but something about the kind of desperate yearning in her voice made him glance at Debbie, and he saw her eyes were red and glistening. Even Lip looked uncharacteristically serious.

"I know," Mickey said finally, lowering himself into the chair across from Fiona.

"We can’t go through that again, Mickey," she said finally. "Maybe you can. It’s your first time. But I can’t. I can’t just watch him spin around, cycling through the same shit over and over again — hurting himself — dragging himself further down … and you — _enabling_ it all.”

It was hard to breath, all of a sudden. Mickey couldn’t tell if it was anger or the picture she was painting, but something made his lungs close so tightly he couldn’t speak.

After a moment Debbie’s voice, quavering a little, broke the silence. “It’s not like that, Fi. Mickey’s not, like, in denial. He’s the one who found the clinic and the program — and got Ian to go. Ian kept saying he wouldn’t take meds and Mickey got him to agree. I don’t see how Mickey’s enabling him.”

Mickey took a breath and fumbled desperately for a cigarette to calm himself. He still didn’t know if he wanted to hug Debbie or crack a few skulls, but he knew he couldn’t do either if he really wanted to help Ian.

Fiona leaned over abruptly and put an arm around Debbie. ”Okay, honey” she said. She and Lip exchanged looks, and then she turned back to Mickey. “All right. I’m sorry if we misjudged you. I mean — I hope we didn’t. And you’re right, we can’t just wait till Ian comes back to us. So … when should we come over?”

Mickey exhaled, and they all leaned in and began to make plans, together.


End file.
